As soon as the governor steps off the stage, Steven comes out of his shock. He turns to his boss and quietly says, “I’ve told him I’m not joining his campaign.”
“I already assured him you are.”
Steven’s eyes turn to slits. “You had no right.”
“This is good for the company. I’ve already interviewed staff to take over your duties at the company while you work on the campaign. As soon as the election is over, you can resume your normal role.”
“No.”
Dudmeyer leans closer to Steven’s ear. “Are you handing in your resignation?”
“What?”
“If you aren’t willing to do what’s right for the company, then I’ll accept it now.”
Steven stays silent, horror on his face.
“That’s what I thought.” Dudmeyer rises, pats him on the back, and walks over to another table.
I put my hand on Steven’s leg, which is twitching.
His face hardens, and he picks up my hand. “We’re leaving.”
I stand, and he leads me to the front of the room where his mom is. She stares at the tablecloth. The governor is shaking hands near the stage.
“Mom, we’re leaving now,” Steven growls, and she looks up. The governor’s wife purses her lips, and his kids, all in their thirties and maybe even forties, scowl at us.
Beth doesn’t argue and rises. She clears her throat. “Let me tell Maximillion—”
“Now,” Steven barks, and several people turn to stare.
She nods.
Steven puts a hand on my back, one on hers, and leads us out of the ballroom, ignoring the people who try to congratulate him.
When we get outside, the paparazzi are in full force, screaming his name and asking him questions. His face reddens further. He guides us back inside the doors then texts his driver.
Beth glances nervously between us.
I offer her a sympathetic smile and squeeze Stevens’s hand.
He tilts his head toward the ceiling, closes his eyes, and deeply inhales a few times.
The car pulls up.
“Ted’s here,” I say.
He puts his hands on both our backs and leads us through the sea of reporters.
When we are safe in the car, Beth blurts out, “Steven, I didn’t know. I swear I told him to keep you out of his business.” Her hands shake, and she twists them in her lap.
“Lots of good that did. Tell me, Mom, how much does a man love you when he can’t even respect your wishes regarding your children?”
She blinks hard, but tears fall. She wipes them and looks out the window. “You can’t work on his campaign.”
“I’m getting fired if I don’t.”
She turns toward him. The color drains from her face. “What?”
“That’s right. Dudmeyer just told me if I don’t, then he’s considering it my resignation.”
She covers her mouth, and tears roll over her shaking hand.
“Are you going to tell me what he wants from me?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s he involved in?”
Silence.
Steven’s eyes turn to slits. “You’re going to protect him over me?”
“No! You’re my son. I love you.”
“But you love him, too, don’t you?”
She closes her eyes, as if in pain.
“Tell me what he’s involved in, right now.”
She covers her face. “I can’t.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“It’s... Steven, you have to trust me.”
He scowls. “So, you’re going to let me work on his campaign blindly?”
“No. You can’t have any part of it.”
“I have no choice,” Steven growls.
“Tell him no,” Beth says.
“Did you not hear me say I’ll get fired?”
Silence.
The car stops, and Ted opens the door.
“Harper, stay in the car. Let’s go, Mom.”
“Goodnight,” his mom says to me.
“Goodnight,” I reply.
Steven gets out and escorts his mom into the building. He’s gone about ten minutes then gets back in the vehicle.
I slide my hand under his tux jacket and over his heart. It’s pounding fast and hard, and he closes his eyes.
“Did your mom tell you?”
He tilts his head toward me. “No. I told her if she can’t tell me, then not to contact me again.”
My pulse quickens. I stay silent.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“As if I’m in the wrong.”
“I’m not judging you. This is my I’m-concerned-about-you-and-feel-horrible-about-what’s-happening-tonight look.”
“It is?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Mental note taken.”
I smile a little and slide onto his lap then caress the side of his head.
He closes his eyes again. Stress, anger, and anxiety grip his face, and I wish I knew how to take it all away.
He mumbles, “I know she chose to be with him, but I didn’t think the day would come where she would pick him over me.”
“Maybe she didn’t.”
His eyes fly open. “How can you say that? You heard the entire conversation.”
I stroke his cheek and his jaw spasms. “Maybe she’s protecting you?”
He snorts. “By letting me work on his campaign?”
“No. I don’t know what she knows, but I have a hard time believing she would hurt you. She loves you.”
He turns toward the window. His voice is laced with hurt. “She just proved she doesn’t love me more than her sugar daddy.”
I wish I knew what to say. Beth’s actions flabbergast me regarding her relationship with Maximillion, but I try not to judge. I feel sorry for her that she’s so blindly in love, she allows herself to stay in that type of relationship. The nasty expressions on the governor’s wife and children’s faces make me believe they know about Beth. Which means they probably are aware Steven and Quinn are biologically Maximillion’s. So the entire situation is sad to me. His wife stays with him, yet Beth also does. And I know Beth is in the wrong, but my heart still hurts thinking about what she must go through working for him and also being manipulated by him.
I was a wife who was cheated on, but I left. Maximillion’s wife stays, so maybe that is why my sympathy is less for her. I’m not sure but it’s the only conclusion I can come to.
The car stops in front of Jamison’s building. We get out, and Steven leads me inside and to the elevator.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure. I might be able to talk to the board and have them override Dudmeyer, but I’m asking to go straight to the unemployment line if I try to go around him.”
The elevator opens, and we go into the house. Anna is on the couch, with a blanket around her, talking on the phone.
Her voice cracks. “Mitch, I don’t know.”
“Anna,” I cry out, and she jumps.
“I have to go.” She wipes her face.
“What are you doing?”
“No, I have to go. We’ll talk later.” She throws her phone in her bag that’s on the table next to her.